Composition Matters

I have a simple rule for my own pieces: No composer in the first rehearsal. The musicians are just trying to get a sense of the piece, learn the nuts and bolts of it. A fretting, hovering, over-stimulated composer is just in the way. If I’ve done my proofreading properly, correcting score or parts mistakes should not be a big item on Day 2. This 2nd day, even if there are only 2 rehearsals (realistic in some cities) should be enough to get across what you need.

But my style of writing is so player-oriented, most of my pieces are basically sight-readable by professionals. Robert Levine and I could probably get together and write a book on How To Write For Strings In Order To Save Rehearsal Time. Many of the techniques are surprisingly easy to incorporate:
Did you ever notice that a half rest looks like a whole rest to middle aged eyes sitting 42 to 48 inches away from the page at a 45 degree angle? Try it at home, as if you were sharing a stand with another fiftyish-hunched-over player with a large moving instrument. Remember that 1 person on each stand may not actually be able to get their markings into the part until the 3rd rehearsal, because of the ridiculous anachronism of string players sharing a part. In the end, I use very few half rests. There are dozens, even hundreds, of little things like this, all adding together to make a far cleaner first reading, more efficient use of rehearsal, and happier players.

I think the standards are improving for new music parts, as the software and peoples’ skill and awareness matures. I have noticed that this improvement, as it makes playing easier, frees up at least some musicians’ brains to see more than, as Robert puts it, “what’s happening in their foxhole.” There are enough composers within my particular orchestra (maybe a half dozen active ones) that fellow players often seek out our opinions in order to get a bigger picture of the piece (or just to get a charge out of us).

I often oblige with a blow-by-blow of what does work and what doesn’t compositionally for me, and of course how I would fix it. This freewheeling exchange in the musicians lounge or locker room or at the urinals is one of the things that might give St. Louis its reputation for openness and flexibility and conscientiousness when preparing a new piece. And the orchestra as a whole seems almost reluctantly aware of its responsibility in upholding that Slatkin-era reputation of the orchestra.

Which leads me to an interesting point brought up by “Holly” yesterday: that outcomes of conductor auditions might be vastly different if the audition repertoire included the Rouse 2nd Symphony. Orchestra musicians are of course hyperaware of their music director’s strengths and weaknesses. These are constantly being weighed, analyzed, and debated even on various official committees, because of the enormous impact those strengths and weaknesses have on so many interconnecting parts of the institution. Marketing, Ticket Sales, Fund Raising, Touring, Recording (ha!), Auditions, the viola section’s rotator cuffs, all are heavily influenced by what the conductor is good at or not.

It is extremely rare, in my opinion, to find a conductor who is good at both a Daugherty Symphony and a Brahms Serenade. Most players might seem to respect the Brahms maestro more. But then, in the very next situation where they’re actually having to play a Daugherty with a conductor who can’t quite handle it, they’re moaning and missing the other guy. There are precious few people able to tell a conductor what he or she should stay away from. I guess there’s the universally reviled music critic, who might actually be right for a change, but no one wants to admit it.

So once again we’re back at that impasse: absolute conductor power in repertoire selection. I wish a music director would chime in on this.